


Love Boat Captain

by gimmefire



Series: The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face [2]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 02:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gimmefire/pseuds/gimmefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monaco 2003. <i>"I think just to be with you would be...very nice."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the Pearl Jam song of the same name. Which was released in 2003. Fuck all y'all. Beta by [mackem](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mackem).

_Party tonight ! I will see you there ! ;)_

Seven little words were all it took. Seven little words that got him here, beer in hand, music too loud to talk to anyone properly. A text invite - hastily followed by a second text actually telling him where this party was - from someone with whom he'd swapped numbers in Australia; it had been a brief meeting, bumping into one another in the paddock, exchanging nervous pleasantries and overly long eye contact. And then he had Felipe Massa's number, and Felipe Massa had his.

Felipe is quite the social butterfly, not to mention quite fond of dancing, but he flits back to Rob often, moving onto his tiptoes to try his best to hold a conversation amid the thunderous bass. Rob only catches every other word so it's very difficult to stay on topic for any length of time, but on the bright side he's very, very aware every time that Felipe's lips brush his ear.

Maybe he's taking too much from the touch of the hand on his shoulder or his back, the sweet smiles aimed his way, the glint in dark eyes. Maybe he's letting himself think about them too much, and he's making them out to be more than they are. But he _is_ thinking about them, and then all he can think about is possibility.

They hadn't spoken much after...that night. The Jordan seat had gone to Ralph, Felipe had gone to Ferrari, and that had been that. The new season brings them together in the same way as passing ships in the night; beyond the exchange of numbers, they greet one another in the paddock with a head nod or brief wave, but they don't talk, they never seem to have the time. Banter via text message occurs, banter that sometimes gets a little too flirtatious, but _that night_ is never discussed.

For Rob at least, this night begins to wane; the work of the day is resting heavier and heavier on his shoulders, and though it's tremendous fun tying himself in little mental knots over a small Brazilian, he decides to call it a night. If nothing else, he can go back to his hotel room and think about that small Brazilian a bit more before he goes to sleep...

He hovers near the door until he catches Felipe's attention, then gives him a wave. As Rob turns to go, out of the corner of his eye he catches the sight of Felipe hurriedly finishing his drink and giving the friend he was talking to a pat on the shoulder and a thumbs up.

Rob's outside and heading towards the tunnel, and he smiles when Felipe trots up to his side, quietly pleased at being joined.

"You don't have to fucking walk me home, y'know," he chuckles.

"I want to!" Felipe responds defiantly.

They walk and chat about the night, following the track around the swimming pool and past Tabac, past revellers and tourists, flash cars and crowded, noisy yachts.

"Why did you invite me to that, anyway?"

Felipe appears to shrug as casually as he possibly can. "Because you are nice."

Rob snorts.

"You are a nice person!" Felipe protests. "I like you." He casts a brief glance around him before moving just a touch closer as they walk. His voice drops to a near whisper. "...And I want to kiss you again."

Inwardly, Rob's stomach flips. Several times, with points awarded for execution. Outwardly, he arches an eyebrow and gives Felipe a sidelong look. "Right."

Felipe shrugs again and grins. A few steps later, trepidation flickers across his face, and he says something that he sounds like he's been wanting to say for a while.

"I have a girlfriend now."

It catches Rob completely off guard. "And I've got a wife, but I don't remember that bothering you before," he says, a little more sharply than he intended. When Felipe avoids his eyes, he sighs a little and mutters, "So now we're both stupid."

"Yes!" Felipe exclaims with too much enthusiasm for such a topic. He scales it down a notch or two and clarifies. Sort of. "I just mean...we are both stupid. Because still I want to kiss you."

"Sounds like you're gonna ask my permission in a minute."

"Well, the last time..." Felipe trails off. There's cautiousness in his voice.

Silence falls between them, awkward and tense. Last time there was _stop stop stop stop_ and _desculpa_ and _I was stupid_ , and suddenly it's all hanging over them like a heavy storm cloud about to break. Rob glances over at Felipe, whose eyes are now firmly fixed on the tarmac passing beneath his feet.

Rob wants that storm cloud gone.

He looks over to his left, through gaps in the opened safety fences at the road running parallel to theirs, then back to Felipe. He clears his throat twice - the second time a little louder because Felipe doesn't take the hint - and dips off to the side, between the gleaming supercars parked to attract the utmost attention, past the line of trees separating the two roads, and slips under the portico over the pavement. There, yacht dealers and estate agents sit in darkness, and the entrance to an apartment block is lit but quiet. Rob sees Felipe's reflection in the windows beside him, following a few steps behind.

What stops him is an entranceway leading to the apartment block's side door, narrow and unlit. A little claustrophobic. Without thinking about it too much, he half-turns back to Felipe and cocks his head towards it.

"This is where you stay...?" Felipe's voice is quizzical as he walks in. He stops after a few steps and looks back at Rob. The light from inside the building frames him, a yellowish glow casting him in semi-shadow. Rob is reminded of the sight of the young Brazilian stood in the doorway of his darkened spare room, big brown eyes peering tentatively out at him.

He hesitates out on the pavement, aware of just how hard his heart is thumping against his ribs.

Eventually, he answers. "No."

And before Felipe can verbalise the confusion written on his face, Rob is there, initiating the kiss he had asked for. It's hurried, a little desperate, but Felipe returns it with just as much fervour. Four months of pent-up _something_ within Rob finally finds a release as he cups the side of Felipe's neck, thumb stroking his stubbled jaw.

When he breaks away, Felipe stares up at him, visibly surprised. Rob feels his face heat up and he self-consciously lets his hand slip from Felipe's neck, not meeting his eyes.

"Stop looking at me like that," he mumbles. Felipe looks away nervously, eyes flicking over the wall, to the floor, and up to where his hand has settled, fingers curled tight in Rob's shirt. He relaxes his grip, smoothing out the fabric.

"But this is my face."

"...You what?"

Felipe looks up at him through his lashes. "You say stop looking to you like this, but this is how I look, you know? So...is difficult for me to stop."

Rob opens his mouth to reply, or correct, or something, but he can't make any words come out. They all sort of stumble over one another into a heap in his brain. At a loss, he laughs and shakes his head, warm affection blooming in his chest. Felipe lifts his chin and rises onto his tiptoes, and this time their kiss is more tender, more indulgent, more forget-the-world.

"Eaaaasy," Rob purrs with a small smile when Felipe's hands travel over his body, and the young man whines into his mouth in response; the sound of it _does things_ to him, things that make him want to let Felipe carry on, make him want to push Felipe up against the wall and--

Nervousness suddenly swoops through his stomach as he catches up with his own thoughts.

His own desires.

They can't stay in that entranceway much longer.

Rob takes a deep breath when their kiss breaks, reluctant to move away but fearing inquisitive eyes. "Walk me home," he says quietly. When Felipe looks up at him, eyebrows raised, he steps back a little and slides a hand down his forearm. "Walk me home." He says it again, to confirm it to himself as much as anything else. "I might even let you in," he adds with a smile to disguise his anxiety.

Felipe returns the smile, and what he says makes Rob's skin tingle.

"Anything you want."

The Brazilian does what Rob himself is not quite brave enough to do, and tentatively takes his hand, looking down as he rubs a thumb across Rob's knuckles. "Anything. I think just to be with you would be...very nice," he says softly.

The two of them silently watch Felipe's thumb going back and forth, back and forth over Rob's knuckles. Rob tries to swallow away the tightness in his throat, to little avail.

They walk back out onto the main road and continue, Felipe once again walking a little bit nearer to him. He feels as though, were it not so public, Felipe might link arms with him and press close to his side. And, were it not so public, Rob feels as though he'd let him.

Felipe wants to sleep with him. The words are telegraphed through every inch of his brain so he's absolutely clear. Hell, Felipe wanted to sleep with him four months ago, he's fairly sure of that. How much experience does a kid like Felipe - he probably should stop referring to him as a kid, at least in this context - have with men? How much experience does Felipe think _he_ has with men? Does he have protection, did he come prepared? And if he did come prepared, did Felipe invite him to that party to have sex with him at the end of it?

Questions batter Rob's brain. He feels a knot in his stomach, and it's beginning to constrict.

When he turns his head to glance at the younger man, he realises Felipe is no longer at his side. Turning around, he sees him peering through the wire fence to their right at the harbour below. The street lights illuminate the smile on his face.

"You see there?" Felipe calls out, nodding downwards.

Rob approaches the armco and looks down, not sure what Felipe might be referring to. Felipe shuffles sideways until his arm presses against Rob's and pokes a finger through the fence. "The fourth one on the right side."

"What, of the yachts?" A beat. "It's not yours, is it?"

"No, is a friend's," Felipe chuckles. He leans his head a little closer, voice dropping conspiratorially low. "Maybe we go there instead...?"

"Oh yeah, alright," Rob scoffs. "Just jump onboard, yeah?"

"No, serious!" Felipe elbows him. "Look, nobody is there. My friend, he is over there--" he points down towards the booming noise of the nightclubs on the other side of the harbour-- "He won't come back for many hours. Nobody is there, Rob."

Rob stares at the yacht, a nondescript white vessel in a long row of nondescript white vessels, bobbing gently on calm, black waters. The jetty is empty, the other boats quiet.

Felipe _is_ serious. He shakes his head in disbelief. "You're fucking joking."

Felipe bites back a grin, eyes sparkling with mischief. "We are both stupid, no?"

No reply is forthcoming. Rob's eyes are fixed on the yacht and he picks his nails. He scratches the back of his neck, and his scalp. He feels Felipe's eyes on him, feels how close he is.

"Rob." Felipe's voice is soft, acceding, and it earns Rob's gaze.

"Maybe I go down there and I wait. For five, ten minutes. If you are not there after these minutes," Felipe pauses and shrugs, the tone of his voice somewhat belying his casual demeanour. "Then...you are not there."

Felipe looks at him with those big, dark eyes for a moment longer, then turns away. Rob watches him walk slowly back down the hill, fingertips dragging lightly along the fence as he goes. His attention turns back to the yacht before he hears Felipe call out to him.

"How many drinks did you have?"

Rob chuckles, despite everything. "Are you my mum now?"

"No, is a serious question!"

"A few beers. Bottles, not pints. Why?"

Felipe shrugs a little and answers simply and honestly. "I don't want to be a mistake, you know?"

Rob's mind trips over Felipe's wording - not 'I don't want _this_ to be a mistake', ' _I_ don't want to be a mistake - and he's left wondering if it was deliberate as he watches him go.

"You're off your fucking head," Rob says to Felipe when he's out of earshot. _I'm off my fucking head_ , he thinks to himself. He lets out his breath in a long, slow sigh, and it's shakier than he'd like.

"Fuck me," he mutters. He stares at the yacht for a while, turning his back before he has the chance to see Felipe approach it. "Fuck me," he says again, more wistfully. He leans against the armco and sparks up a cigarette, stubbing it out only half finished.

"Fuck."

Then he begins to walk resolutely up the hill in the direction of his hotel.

He gets as far as the entrance of the tunnel before he turns around, equally resolutely.

" _Fuck!_ "

 

He finds Felipe a few minutes later, sat on the jetty with his legs dangling over the edge. He doesn't look around; Rob's approach seemingly too quiet. Briefly he toys with the idea of grabbing Felipe's shoulders and pretending he's about to shove him into the harbour; he's had enough stomach-lurching moments courtesy of the young man, it'd only be fair to return the favour at least once. Instead he bends his leg and gently knees Felipe between the shoulderblades, which is enough to make him flinch and twist around, swiftly deciding that looking straight up would be much less awkward. His surprise is painted plainly on his upside-down face.

"You are here!"

Rob looks down at himself with a smirk. "Yeah, looks like it, doesn't it?"

Felipe grasps the hand Rob offers him and pulls himself to his feet, regarding him carefully. "And not only to say 'no' and go...?"

Confirming it aloud sets off a fresh ripple of nervousness within Rob, but his answer is firm. "No."

Seemingly satisfied, Felipe allows himself to smile and, still holding Rob's hand, pulls him towards the narrow gangway.

"You know," he remarks over his shoulder as they board, his smile turning into a grin, "If my friend comes back too soon, is okay; there are plenty of places to hide in here!"

Rob stops firmly in his tracks and gives him a deadly look, but he doesn't pull free of Felipe's hand. Repeated, coaxing assurances from Felipe that he was joking get his leaden feet moving again.

Once they're onboard, but for the deck under his feet, everything around Rob is glossy; the white panels, the dark wooden handrails, the shapely white plastic chairs encircling the lacquered table. It leaves him quite reluctant to touch anything.

Felipe digs the yacht's door key out of his pocket, and once Rob slides the tinted glass door shut behind himself, butterflies are kicking up a storm around that knot in his stomach, especially when Felipe immediately moves in close and slides a hand around the back of his neck.

Their kiss is deep and unhurried; Rob sinks against the door at his back, hesitant hands eventually smoothing down Felipe's sides. Felipe arches into him and the hands slide lower.

"I feel like a teenager!" Rob confesses when they break for air, feeling himself blush. It occurs to him that they're so preoccupied with one another, they haven't even managed to switch on the lights yet. Felipe frowns at him quizzically in the semi-darkness.

"I am twenty two!"

"No, no, _I_ feel--" Rob begins to clarify, tapping his chest, stopping when a grin breaks across Felipe's face. He sighs. "Yeah, alright, ha fucking ha, I fell for it..."

"You fell for me?" Felipe says with faux surprise. "Oh, it happened so fast, I am so good at this!"

"Okay, stop it now..." Rob murmurs, ensuring Felipe's compliance with another focus-stealing kiss. It doesn't keep him quiet for too long, though.

"So...what are you here for?" he asks between kisses, warm mischief in his voice, close enough for Rob to feel his breath on his lips. One hand slides up his chest, fingers splayed, to undo the top button on Rob's shirt while he awaits an answer.

It seems an awfully direct question, even without an ounce of seriousness in Felipe's tone, and he dimly hopes that something was lost in translation. His skin is alight with interest at the body pressed up against his, its movement and its warmth. He feels as though he could lose himself in Felipe's kisses for hours. But...

"I don't know," he answers honestly. Then, after considering it, "You."

Felipe truly _beams_ at that, his whole face lighting up with it. He smoothes out the fabric of Rob's partially open shirt and presses his lips to the skin revealed, still beaming. "I like that very much," he says, for the avoidance of doubt. "Very much," he murmurs again, pulling Rob down to him for a searing kiss.

Rob can't keep back a hitched gasp when Felipe's hand slips down between them to grope him through his trousers. His hips lift, a moan rises from his throat, bright and loud enough for him to feel self-conscious, even moreso when Felipe laughs wickedly against his neck. Everything about the Brazilian in that moment radiates a staggering confidence for his age, almost predatory in his demeanour; it's the Felipe that was in his house, on his sofa, in his lap and grinding against him, the Felipe that's tugging down his zipper and delving inside, the Felipe that overwhelmed him then and is overwhelming him now. It's almost like the wide-eyed, hopeful Felipe, the one with the shy smile and tentative words, is somewhere else, some _one_ else.

The thin cotton of Rob's boxers all that's keeping Felipe's hand from curling around his stiffening dick.

" _Oh fuck,_ " he groans, feeling as though every inch of Felipe's body is pressed against him, the heat of him and the touch of him and the sound of his soft moans beginning to drive him to distraction.

Then Felipe makes a noise mid-kiss like he's just remembered something, and he breaks away.

"Brazil!"

Out of breath and flustered, Rob blinks at him repeatedly. Felipe's hand is still in his trousers. Rob's voice cracks when he speaks. "Y-you what?"

"Congratulations for Brazil!" Felipe elaborates earnestly, his free hand reaching up to thread fingers through Rob's hair. "I wanted to say before, but always I forget."

Rob is utterly, _completely_ bemused. The small part of his brain that isn't aroused beyond all reason wonders about Felipe's thought process. "You..." he trails off because he hasn't got the rest of the sentence formed in his head, because _hand in trousers_. It takes quite a concerted mental effort to get himself together. "You already congratulated me, you sent me a text before Imola!"

"I know, but I wanted to say to you in person. So..." Felipe pauses, seemingly at a loss for what else to say. He shrugs. "Congratulations!"

It's...it's infuriating and sweet all at the same time. It would be rude to complain, so Rob huffs a laugh. Apparently this _is_ the same Felipe as before, after all. "Thank you - _again_ ," he says pointedly, and glances down between them. "Now can you please fucking concentrate?"

"I didn't want to forget again!" Felipe exclaims more than a little indignantly, as if that was a perfectly reasonable break in proceedings. Rob's equally indignant _I know, I know, but--_ is muffled as Felipe stretches up to meet his mouth. When Rob lets his hands slip down to the soft curve of Felipe's ass and give it squeeze, the squeak that he's rewarded with distracts him from his exasperation. When Felipe's hand manages to work its way past the waistband of his boxers, it's like he was never exasperated in the first place.

There's a beat where they both seem to readjust to this next level, to this _no-going-back-now_ moment, their eye contact skittish and fleeting. Felipe's hand is warm, Rob's flesh is hot, and hard, and sensitive; he makes a rough noise in the back of his throat when Felipe adjusts his grip. The fingers are thicker, rougher than he's used to, and they work him differently, but _fuck_ do they work him. Suddenly Felipe is wasting no time, jerking him off with urgency, breathing shakily against his neck.

" _Fuck, Felipe,_ " he says, voice thick with need. He grips fitfully at Felipe's muscular shoulder, hand sliding up to the back of his neck and into his hair, and Felipe responds by pressing closer, moving to stand astride Rob's leg. Shock flickers across Rob's skin in a wave of gooseflesh when he feels the solid length against his thigh muscle.

The fabric of his boxers constantly, incessantly grazes the head of his cock when Felipe's thumb isn't there rubbing over the slit, and he feels his precome sticking to it, making the sensation that much more torturous. His hips buck sharply and the motion pulls a guttural moan from his throat, and the fast pace doesn't give him time to think or focus on self-control or do _anything_ ; a part of him wants to slow down, to ask for temperance, an opportunity to really feel this new experience and to properly reciprocate, but already his hand is tightening in Felipe's hair and curses are streaming from his lips and he's gasping for breath and--

He bangs the back of his head against the glass door as he comes with a cry, but he barely feels it. Felipe's hand doesn't slow until his body relaxes and only stops completely when the last feeble spasms from his hips ebb away to stillness.

He slides limply down the door, catching his shirt on the handle and having to fumble it free before he thuds to the floor, eyes on the ceiling as he catches his breath. Felipe goes with him, settling on his outstretched leg at first before slumping off, twisting onto one side so he can cuddle up next to him, arm draping across his thigh. Rob's jaw is slack as he breathes deeply and stares off into the middle distance, mind spinning. His body throbs dully with slowly fading pleasure; wasn't it only fifteen minutes ago that he was looking down at this yacht, deciding whether to accept Felipe's invitation? Now he was--

"I couldn't wait, I couldn't," Felipe mumbles beside him, breaking him out of his thoughts with a feverish hand running over his chest.

"It's been four months," Rob points out wryly, rocking his head to one side to regard the younger man. He feels like he might be aglow, such is the heat and sweat coming off his skin. "You couldn't wait a little bit longer...?"

Felipe shakes his head, watching the progress of his hand, visibly dazed. "I wanted so much to see you...in this way."

Felipe lifts his gaze to meet Rob's, and the look in his eyes is almost reverent. Rob doesn't have the full mental capacity to deal with that look quite yet, but it draws him to Felipe's mouth, and the Brazilian kisses him earnestly, both hands curling into his shirt. Only when Felipe breaks away does he look down at his sticky palm, quizzical expression morphing into embarrassment when he glances over to the damp patch he's left on Rob's shirt.

"Shit," Rob declares, pulling his shirt away from his stomach in mild disgust.

"I forget," Felipe says sheepishly, flexing his fingers.


	2. Chapter 2

Felipe pushes himself to his feet - being careful not to touch anything else with his tainted hand - and pulls Rob up, and once they flick on the lights and find a packet of napkins in one of the kitchenette cupboards, they set about cleaning up.

"Did you think about me?" Felipe asks, leaning against the counter and passing his balled up, used napkin from hand to (clean) hand. "I mean, before tonight."

"I did, yeah," Rob responds beside him, without looking up from the fairly undignified task of wiping out the inside of his boxers. He supposes, as he pulls the soiled napkin free and carefully folds it up, that there isn't any point in nipping to the bathroom to do it, it wasn't as though Felipe wasn't there when it happened...

"But did you _think about me_ ," Felipe asks again with heavy implication, drawing Rob's gaze. He elaborates a little bit more, that heavy implication spread thickly over every word. "At night...when you are _alone_..."

It occurs to Rob that the word 'fantasise' might not have previously been seen as an important addition to Felipe's English vocabulary, or maybe he just wants to dance around the issue. A flush colouring his cheeks, he takes Felipe's napkin and dumps both it and his into the bin. He doesn't answer for quite a long time, something unpleasant constricting the back of his throat. It's not as strong as shame or even guilt, but it's on the same path.

His mind flits back to nights in hotel rooms. He remembers on more than one occasion flicking through the pay-per-view adult listings, feeling a little thrill at seeing the gay section followed by a pang of disappointment at the _no listings available_ message he receives upon accessing it. (Once, just once, he did find two movies. He spent five solid minutes flicking between the listings, glancing over the brief descriptions and the cover photos depicting very brawny, very shirtless, very waxed men posing with their arms behind their heads. Eventually, with a mix of dissatisfaction and frustration, he decided not to watch either.)

He also remembers, on more than one occasion, thinking about Felipe instead.

"I did," he admits.

Felipe's resulting smile is just a little bit smug. Rob chuckles somewhat ruefully. "Seducing a straight bloke gets you going, does it?" He's careful not to say _turning_ ; the word sits uncomfortably with him, he doesn't believe it really fits. Felipe shrugs bashfully.

"Is not so much like this," he says. "I want you, so...I try."

It's a simple way of putting it, Rob thinks, but it seems pretty fucking accurate.

"I think about you also in that way," Felipe continues quietly, not making eye contact. "Sometimes I think about you at night, I think about you in the morning, I think about you when I am in the shower..." He takes a slow, deep breath, his eyes unfocused as though he's remembering each time. Rob watches him, spellbound. "I think about how I kiss you, how I touch you, the sound you make..." There's warm promise in his voice when he adds with a mischievous smile, "I think about how I make you make these sounds..."

"How did you?" Rob asks, voice low and soft. Felipe looks up and blinks at him, unexpectedly broken from his reverie. When he fails to respond beyond a faint blush, Rob moves closer, into his personal space. "How did you make me make those sounds?"

It seems like Felipe might be about to say something, but he doesn't get beyond _I-I..._ before his mouth is busy being kissed, slowly and tenderly enough to make him whimper.

When Rob presses against him, Felipe grunts and stiffens momentarily.

"Already...?" Rob asks with incredulity, looking down between them. "Jesus, I know you're young, but..."

Felipe laughs and looks guilty. "No, I didn't before." An apology rises in Rob's throat before the younger man clarifies. "I wanted to wait. I tell you, it was not so easy!"

"Oh, I see," Rob drawls, lightly teasing. "It's alright for _you_ to wait, but I don't get a fucking choice."

Felipe lifts his chin and gives him a haughty look. "Who do you think is the boss here?"

"Oh yeah?," Rob laughs, eyebrows raised. He presses closer, pushing Felipe back, fingers sliding around his wrists to pin his hands to the cool tiles of the countertop. Felipe's breath hitches, his hips rocking weakly into the stimulation. Rob smiles. "You're the boss here, are you?"

"I could get out of this, you know," Felipe murmurs, eyes flicking down to the hand over his, the thumb curled around his wrist, then back up. His gaze is dark and heated and locked with his, and it sets off a delicious burn in the pit of Rob's stomach.

"Go on then."

He feels Felipe's fingers flex under his own, but not with any real effort to break free. A smirk playing on his face, Rob moves against Felipe, and the helpless moan the Brazilian gives is entwined with a laugh as he sags back against the counter. The sound turns Rob on more than he ever expected, and he seeks out Felipe's lips.

Their kisses grow increasingly hungry, muffled moans and swipes of tongue punctuating their rhythm. Rob rocks his hips shallowly into Felipe's, the feel of Felipe's hardened cock rubbing his thigh still foreign but more and more thrilling to him. It emboldens him, and he smears kisses down the side of Felipe's thick neck to the broad muscle across his shoulder, sucking lightly on the skin, swirling circles with the tip of his tongue and Felipe is squirming and cursing in several languages under his breath, powerless hands clenched into fists. His head rolls back as Rob's mouth tracks across his throat - _Adam's apple_ , a part of Rob's brain helpfully notes - to the hollow above his collarbone, tongue flattening out to give a wet, wide lick to smooth skin. A heavy pulse of arousal rushes through his body with every heartbeat, accented by the way Felipe's breath is coming in gasps, the way his moans make him feel wild, bold--

Into his ear Felipe pants, "Fuck me, I need you to fuck me."

The words shoot down Rob's spine and bring his skin out in goosebumps, and he stills.

Up until that moment, Rob thinks he's done pretty well to hide his nerves. When he draws back enough to see Felipe's face, the expression there tells him he's no longer doing so well. Lust and need mix uneasily with apprehension in dark eyes, and their laboured breathing fills the silence. How is it possible to know this was inevitably coming, but still feel as though the rug has been pulled from under you?

Felipe wets his reddened lips, gaze tracking all over Rob's face, then fixing firmly on his chest. "Y-you don't have to," he says, suddenly looking intensely embarrassed, as though he hadn't meant to say anything at all. Rob feels his hands flex under his again, the fingers closing into loose fists.

"No, I--" Rob begins and stops, because he doesn't know what he's saying, he can't think. He _can't think._ He knows he must look terribly daunted, and the knowledge makes him uncomfortable; embarrassed, even. Without speaking again, he dips forward for a fervent kiss that's as much to ease Felipe as it is to distract himself. He releases his grip on Felipe's wrists to touch his stomach, run up to his chest, and again it strikes him how muscular Felipe is; it's a firm, strong body that's under his hands, compact but definitely masculine. Felipe's hands are soon gripping his back, fingers splayed, fingertips digging in. It feels good. All of it feels fucking good.

" _I want you_ ," he rushes the words out in a laboured breath against Felipe's lips, and it sounds strange to his own ears. Felipe moans in response, a shuddering burst of a noise from an open mouth, grabbing desperate fistfuls of Rob's shirt.

They fumble their way downstairs to the bedroom - or rather, Felipe fumbles their way downstairs to the bedroom, because Rob has no idea where it is - and they unbutton clothes and kiss passionately and Rob's trying to ignore that storm, that fucking _tornado_ of butterflies in his stomach. He's in a bedroom with another man, a man he wants, undeniably _wants_ , a man whose low moans and gasping breaths are making his prick swell into hardness again...

Felipe turns on the lights and dims them to a warm glow while Rob settles on the edge of the bed, shoes off, rubbing his hands over the cappuccino-coloured sheets and allowing himself a moment to breathe. Dark lacquered wood and cream panelling encircle him, an emphasis upon luxury that feels a bit oppressive in this small room; the expansive bed takes up over half of the floor space.

He exhales slowly through pursed lips before he looks from his surroundings to find Felipe watching him, undoing the last couple of buttons on his shirt. He doesn't say anything - neither of them do - he just watches. Chewing on his bottom lip, he opens his shirt and lets it fall to the floor.

Rob shifts back a little on the bed, legs still dangling off the edge. "Come here," he murmurs. Felipe does so immediately, a feverish spark in his eyes visible even in the soft lighting. When he kneels on the bed, straddling the other man and offering a smile, Rob has no complaints. Felipe slides a hand up Rob's chest to his neck, thumb pressing gently under his jaw to tilt his head up.

"Like before but even better, no?," he remarks playfully, smiling a little bit wider and arching down for a kiss. His hands become occupied with relieving Rob of his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and exploring the bare skin of his chest for the first time.

Rob breaks from Felipe's mouth to kiss down his chest, right down the centre and deviating to lap at the dark skin of his nipple. This part he can do, this is easy. Nipples are easy.

He licks once, twice, then blows on the wetted flesh, bringing the nipple erect and taking it gently between his teeth. He's rewarded with a groan and the tightening of Felipe's legs around his hips. Feeling Felipe's eyes on him, he alternates between licking the nub and closing his lips around it to suck on it, sucking gradually harder each time. He brings one hand up to squeeze the breast - not that there's much to squeeze, and this might be just a thing for women, but he's doing it anyway - the other flat against the small of Felipe's back. Felipe buries his fingers in Rob's hair, tightening his grip every time he sucks, so Rob feels he must be doing something right.

When he pulls back with a small grimace, he belatedly hopes Felipe didn't notice. No such luck, it seems.

"You don't like my taste?"

"I'm not really used to," he pauses, for some reason wanting to put it delicately but unable to think how to. He chuckles uneasily. "Hair. There."

Fortunately Felipe appears amused by this, bending his head to kiss his temple. He eases Rob onto his back, crouching over him on his elbows and knees to scatter kisses over the pale skin of his chest and shoulders.

"Your eyes are very nice, you know?" he says, apropos of nothing, when he returns to Rob's lips. "I like a lot the blue."

"Bit late to be sweet talking me," Rob laughs bashfully, feeling heat in his face. "Bet you get all the girls with those big brown eyes of yours."

Felipe grins, eyebrows raised. "Also the boys!"

Hands caressing Felipe's sides, they move around to sweep down the curve of his back, fingertips trailing down the ridge of his spine to the waistband of his jeans. Felipe undoes his own fly, humming with pleasure into their kisses when Rob's fingers travel further, beneath the fabric, both hands soon cupping his ass and squeezing.

It's here that Rob begins to falter. Felipe arches, lifting his hips and pushing into Rob's hands, moaning low in his throat every time those fingers tighten around his asscheeks. He starts to push Felipe's trousers and underwear down and stops, hands skittering back up to his shoulders; retreating. His heart is pounding and it's on a knife edge between excitement and panic, and the sustained shock of the new to all this won't let him truly relax. _Going to have sex with a man. Going to--_

"Don't stop," Felipe encourages gently, need creeping into his voice and breaking through Rob's mental chatter long enough to bring back his attention. Felipe's hand is on his, easing it back down his body to his hip, past his waistband...

" _I haven't_...I've never," Rob blurts out, not really willing to add any more, because it sounds stupid enough in his head. He's already said he's straight, but he needs things to be absolutely clear. One hundred percent, totally clear. Then everyone's completely prepared and ready, right? Right. He swallows against a tight throat.

Felipe looks at him inquisitively for a few beats. Rob gives him a rather pained look in return, hoping he doesn't look too much like a startled deer. _Please don't make me explain. This whole thing is scary enough as it is._

Fortunately, a mischievous smile blooms on Felipe's lips. "You have never...been with anybody so handsome as me?" he wonders coyly.

Rob lets out the breath he hadn't realised he was holding and snuffs a laugh. "You drivers are all the same, you're so up yourselves..."

Felipe kisses him, and it feels quite removed from those that came before; slow and full and focussed, his hands still. Drawing back enough to look Rob in the eye, he asks softly, "You like this, this is good?"

Captured by those big brown eyes, Rob's voice is rough when he answers. "Yeah."

The hand covering his at Felipe's hip begins to move again, guiding him to hook his thumb over the waistband while the fingers slip further inside. Unbidden, Rob brings his free hand down to mirror the other. Between them they begin to ease Felipe's jeans down, exposing his hips, his ass, and, as Felipe tenses just a little at the friction of fabric, his hardened cock. Rob looks down between them and feels a thrill snake up his spine at the sight.

Felipe pulls his attention away with another slow kiss. Once his trousers and pants are down to his knees, he reaches down and tugs them free, and then he's naked, completely naked, kneeling over the other man. Rob's gaze flits over what he can see of all this bare, tanned skin, until it lifts to find a shy smile. He's asked the same question.

"And you like this, this is good...?"

Rob's face feels hot. "Yeah."

Felipe's smile grows. "Then is okay," he murmurs. It's all he says, but Rob feels it might be all he needs. The anxiety twisting him into knots has already begun to ease, and he lifts his head for another kiss.

Not quite bold enough to strip off in a similar way to Felipe, even beneath this dim lighting, Rob undoes his trousers and eases the younger man up so he can sit up and swing his legs around, scooting himself to one side of the bed. It's scant privacy, but with his back turned, he strips off trousers, boxers and socks and lays them out on the floor at his feet. Looking over his shoulder, he finds Felipe sat on his legs on the end of the bed, reaching down and fishing into one of the pockets of his jeans. Easing himself into bed, he takes in the sight of Felipe's body; the curves of muscle definition in his arms and shoulders, the arch of his back and spine, the hair on his thighs and forearms. Without conscious thought, he wraps his hand around his half-hard dick, stroking himself slowly under the covers.

Felipe twists and tosses something small onto the bedside table on his side of the bed, glancing down at the movement of the sheets and shooting Rob a grin. He straightens up and does a curious little shimmy with his shoulders. "You like this too?"

Rob bites his bottom lip, mirroring Felipe's grin. The nervousness in him is mixing with arousal, and the rush it brings is intoxicating enough to make him feel light-headed. "I'd like it better if it was over here," he drawls.

Not needing to be asked twice, Felipe shifts onto his hands and knees and crawls up towards the head of the bed. Rob pushes the sheets down, and soon Felipe is hooking a leg over his, pressing against him and scattering kisses up the side of his neck to reach his lips. The heat of Felipe's bare skin all along his body and the weight of his erection on his thigh makes Rob's stomach lurch pleasantly. It's the impetus he needs to fully reciprocate, initially gripping the underside of Felipe's leg, then his hip, pulling him against himself and swallowing his moan. Then his hand is around Felipe's cock, before he has the chance to get himself worked up about it; he grips gently, his fingertips exploring, tracing veins, the smooth head, the tightly curled hair at the base, giving the same gentle strokes he gave himself. Felipe stiffens and presses even closer, rolling his hips and letting out a high noise that shoots straight to Rob's dick.

It's still _so_ strange to him, but there's nothing within him telling him to stop.

"I need the, the... _that_ \--" Felipe pants, gesturing in frustration to the object on the bedside table whose name he can't place. Rob glances over his shoulder to where Felipe's pointing - a bottle of hand lotion. He reaches back and clumsily grasps it, almost knocking it onto the floor, handing it over with a touch of confusion until Felipe squirts out a blob and covers two of his fingers in it. It's scented stuff - not particularly nicely scented, Rob thinks, wrinkling his nose; it's floral but he's not sure which flower, and it reminds him of the free travel size lotions you find in cheap hotels. Rob wonders if he'll always associate that scent with this night.

Felipe's hand delves under the covers, and Rob feels the leg draped over his shift as he moves to get more comfortable. There's something in his expression, as he focusses on Rob's chest, that Rob hasn't seen before, something beneath the feverish concentration and urgency; there are nerves there. Questions rush to the tip of his tongue - _Is this actually your first time? Is this your first time as the...the taker, or whatever the term is? Is it because of me?_ \- but he keeps them back, not least because Felipe's expression changes again, unconcealed pleasure washing over him, eyes slipping shut. Rob stares, he can't help it, as Felipe takes slow, measured breaths, peppered with small shudders and hushed moans; in the mesmerised quiet, he hears the wet sound of Felipe's fingers in motion. It makes his skin prickle.

"Could you turn over?" Rob asks quietly, kissing Felipe's jaw almost in apology for the interruption. "I want to see."

Felipe's eyes open, dark and clouded with pleasure, a faint, devilish smile tugging at his lips. "You want to see me touch myself in this way?"

Unable to answer but for a noise of assent, Rob nods and takes those wicked lips in a kiss that they both get a bit carried away with, tongues swiping together, Rob's fingers curling tightly in Felipe's hair, until the young man whines in desperation.

Eventually he does turn over, and Rob pushes down the sheets just enough, immediately transfixed by the steady movement - the _penetration_ \- of Felipe's finger as he prepares himself. Rob has the urge to ask what it feels like but, judging by the way Felipe arches and moans long and low when he adds his second lubricated finger, pushing back against his own hand, it might be a silly question at that moment in time. "Fuck," Rob whispers instead, smoothing a hand down Felipe's arm and kissing the skin across his shoulder blade. Felipe chuckles breathlessly in response.

Curiosity and arousal spurring him on, Rob reaches for the lotion Felipe left aside and slathers his finger in slippery liquid. Trying his best not to get any on the sheets, he slips his hand under the covers, grazing his knuckles down Felipe's back as he goes so as not to startle him, and cups Felipe's hand. The sound of his heart thudding in his ears, he begins to ease his slick finger into the young man, alongside the two fingers already there. Felipe's breath hitches and he tenses.

"Slow, please, slow..." Felipe pleads in a voice close to a whimper, persuading his body to relax again. "I am already so close..."

"Okay, okay," Rob replies as soothingly as he can manage, dripping kisses across Felipe's shoulder. He does as he's bid, slowly, agonisingly slowly, feeling the muscle stretch around his finger, the tight, wet heat within. He's so fascinated and turned on by now that the man who had stood out on that sloping road overlooking the harbour, agonising over what to do with Felipe's offer, felt like a different person. "That feel good?"

Felipe moans and nods wordlessly, pressing his head into the pillow. His hips buck in a sudden spasm and he reaches out to tightly grip the edge of mattress. Still cupping Felipe's hand, Rob moves with him, pushing deeper inside him, right to the knuckle. His remaining fingers and thumb curl around Felipe's hand and as one they ease in and out, in and out, gentle preparation that has Felipe panting and twisting under the stimulation. Rob kisses the back of Felipe's neck, the tang of sweat on his lips. He is entranced.

The hand clamped to the mattress stretches out to the bedside table, groping blindly at the surface and eventually returning with the object Felipe had tossed there earlier - a condom. He offers it over his shoulder, and Rob feels his stomach swoop again as he takes it and rips the top edge of the foil off with his teeth. He mumbles an apology when he withdraws his finger suddenly enough to make Felipe whimper in discomfort, and rests his forehead against Felipe's back while he rolls the condom over his solid erection.

Felipe is ready and waiting for him, his uppermost knee brought up towards his chest, casting a glance over his shoulder that's all long eyelashes and flushed cheeks and wetted, open lips and need, ready and waiting and _open_ for him. Rob swallows at the sight, desire coursing through him, like his blood is throbbing in his veins. He rests one hand on Felipe's hip, the other grasping the base of his sheathed cock to guide himself towards Felipe's entrance. "Fuck," he whispers again, teeth setting into his bottom lip, and presses the head against the ring of muscle. Felipe makes a small, needful noise at the contact, pushing back as Rob pushes forward until Rob is cursing over and over under his breath at the extraordinary sensation of Felipe stretching around his cock, until it's all heat and tightness and the scent of Felipe's skin and that fucking horrible lotion and _sex_ and Rob can't think beyond any of that because it's never, ever been like this before. " _Fucking Jesus Christ,_ " he mutters raggedly against the back of Felipe's neck, and Felipe can only groan in response.

They're shallow thrusts at first, shallow and slow while he's buried inside because he's not sure he can take anything more than that, let alone how Felipe might be feeling. The younger man is so vocal, tremulous moans and rough groans bursting from his mouth with every thrust; he curls his hand tightly into the pillowcase, arching to angle Rob's cock just so.

"On your back," Rob says gruffly, "Wanna see you." It's not so much a command as a request, but Felipe nods hurriedly; he's rolling over, lifting his legs to wrap around Rob's torso, and Rob is spreading his own legs wide to carefully push into him again, their movements all urgent. Rob looks down between them as he slides deeper, at his hips moving to sit flush with Felipe's ass, at the way Felipe's cock lolls against his stomach, the obscenity of precome smearing across his little belly, up to his heaving chest and the bob of his Adam's apple when he swallows, his open mouth and eyes hazy with lust.

"Please, Rob, please, is good so good-- _ahhhhh--_ " Felipe dissolves into a helpless moan as Rob begins to move, faster now, the greater friction from his deeper thrusts driving him; Portuguese spills out of Felipe that Rob doesn't understand, but his tone is desperate and strained and utterly pornographic.

The young man's arms lie limp above his head, and somewhere in the back of Rob's mind he realises that but for the heels digging into his back and the spasmodic clench of his thighs, Felipe is wilfully helpless beneath him. In the hours they'd spent together before now, Felipe had usually been forward, dominant, even, from the brazen flirting at his house to kneeling over him completely naked on this very bed. Now Felipe is pliant and open, completely open, letting him control the rhythm and power of their movements. Renewed fire in his blood, Rob bends for an untidy kiss, dual moans at their new angle spiralling out, and he fucks Felipe into the mattress.

Pulling his arms down to grip the pillow in tight fists, Felipe presses his head back, eyes shut and mouth wide open in a long, loud moan. Each thrust draws it out longer, a sobbed noise bled from his throat beneath Rob's grunts of exertion. His head rocks to one side, his sounds escalating. " _É demais, demais, ahh..._ "

"Wh-you okay--?," Rob pants, a flash of alarm at what might be distress in Felipe's voice breaking through the fog of pleasure in his head.

" _No is good don't stop don't don't--_ " The words rush out of him in a frantic stream and he untwists one hand from the fabric of the pillowcase, grasping his heavy cock to jerk himself off hard and fast. Then he's arching off the bed and relying completely of Rob's hands to steady him as he comes all over himself, spurting onto his chest, his stomach, his hand; he tightens and spasms around Rob's length and the assault it all brings on Rob's senses makes him cry out, fingers digging into Felipe's hips to fuck him harder and faster through his orgasm. Felipe reaches out under his legs, fumbling to grip at the small of Rob's back, slick with sweat, urging him deeper until he's coming too, a hoarse moan and a violent shudder coursing through him as his rhythm falls away.

Rob sags, aching and exhausted, panting against Felipe's similarly heaving chest. It's all he can do to keep from going limp and squashing the younger man. "Fuck," he breathes, everything he's feeling wrapped up succinctly in one syllable. "Fuck."

He feels fingers thread through his hair, slowly and repeatedly, and a lingering kiss is pressed to the top of his head.

 

It takes them about twenty minutes to muster the energy and the desire to move; it comes when Rob realises he's in real danger of falling asleep and waking up to the presence of the yacht owner, and an even more complicated situation than before. Truth be told, Rob needed every one of those twenty minutes for his brain to catch up with his body. _Just had sex with a man._ Perhaps unsurprisingly, the thought is not quite as startling after the fact, but he suspects this night will take quite some time to process.

Later, Felipe locks the sliding door behind him and disembarks, joining Rob on the jetty. He sidles up and stands a bit too close, especially in the presence of other people returning from the various clubs and bars scattered around the harbour. The smell of sex is still on him, still on Rob; the urge to murmur to Felipe that he smells _great_ bubbles up within Rob, but he bites his tongue.

"Your hair looks shit," he says instead.

Felipe looks genuinely alarmed and twists around to peer at his reflection in the yacht's window, tugging at his curls. "But I make sure is not so bad after--"

"Your hair always looks shit, mate. Do you cut it yourself to save money?"

Felipe gives him a look, his jaw jutting out in indignation, and Rob smiles until the corners of his eyes crinkle. He decides not to even try and process tonight, at least not until the weekend is out.

Once they've walked back along the jetty to the road, it becomes apparent that their hotels are in opposite directions, by way of awkward shrugging, gesturing and inane small talk. Rob takes some wry comfort in the fact that the 'morning after' bit following a new shag is as uncomfortable with a man as it is with a woman.

"Listen," Rob begins, but Felipe cuts him off.

"I know, is okay. You don't have to..." he appears to search for the words he's looking for, then decide against them. "Maybe I see you in the paddock, we say hi, we have phone numbers...is okay."

"Right, yeah," Rob concurs a bit too breezily. This is suddenly sounding rather final and he's not sure how he feels about that. "Yeah, sounds good."

Felipe smiles a bit too widely. "I tell you I don't want to be a mistake, so..." he looks back towards the yacht and shrugs. "This is okay."

Rob laughs nervously and speaks without really thinking.

"I think we're a bit beyond that, mate," he chuckles. "And if we're gonna start labeling things as mistakes, we should probably start at me falling for your stupid fucking story about the hotel key."

The hurt written on Felipe's face is covered quickly with an averted gaze and a horribly false sounding chuckle. "Maybe," he mumbles. It makes Rob wince. They can't leave it like this.

He clears his throat, edging closer, and his voice drops to barely above a whisper. "Not all mistakes turn out to be bad, though, eh?"

Felipe looks up at him, uncertainty, even wariness flooding his gaze for a long moment. His expression eases when Rob doesn't look away. "No," he says softly.

The urge to bend his head and kiss Felipe comes on so strongly, Rob feels something twist in his gut when alarm bells ring telling him not to.

Perhaps Felipe hears those very same alarm bells, because he takes a little step back, glancing around them. "We have the phone numbers," he repeats, tugging self-consciously at his hair again.

"We do," Rob replies, a little at a loss for what else to say because he can't seem to snap himself out of it. Felipe sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and it's flushed with colour when he releases it, which really doesn't help. "Good luck this weekend," he manages, to which Felipe chuckles.

"I think I am already so lucky here today," he says coyly, with a grin that dances down Rob's spine. He returns the good luck wish and turns to leave, heading back towards Tabac.

Rob can only stand there and watch him for so long before he's brave enough to speak. To say aloud what's in his heart, because his chest aches a little too much to be ignored.

"Felipe," he calls out, and the Brazilian turns immediately, like he was waiting for it. In an odd way, it helps Rob to put caution aside. "I wouldn't mind seeing you again."

The smile that blossoms on Felipe's face will stay with Rob for a long time. He doesn't say anything in response, he merely nods in what Rob will forever believe to be a complacent, _well-of_ -course- _you-wouldn't_ way, and lets his eyes linger before he departs.

 

Rob is practically half asleep by the time he gets into his hotel room. He sees the time and wishes he hadn't, wincing because he _does_ have work to do tomorrow. When he's in bed, he texts Lucy; something black and unpleasant unfurls and grips his gut when he signs it with kisses and hits send, but as he is not going to try and process tonight, he reiterates, he is not going to cripple himself with guilt tonight either - not that he has the energy anyway. He contemplates texting Felipe but thinks better of it, and scrolls back through his messages instead.

_Party tonight ! I will see you there ! ;)_

Seven little words were all it took. Seven little words, but there was also _you can take, if you want_ and _I notice you_ , _we are both stupid_ and _anything you want_ , _I don't want to be a mistake_ and _I want you, so...I try_...

"Fuckin' hell," he mutters to himself.

It wasn't as simple as seven little words. It wasn't likely to be simple ever again.


End file.
